


Levers and lace

by bluebells



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fucking Machines, Lingerie, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 02:17:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20202109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebells/pseuds/bluebells
Summary: The first time Akande learns of the machine, Lúcio videocalls him during a mission overseas.





	Levers and lace

**Author's Note:**

> More adventures from the Doomcio Server.

The first time Akande learns of the machine, Lúcio videocalls him during a mission overseas.

It's one of those afternoons he's taking a break from the recording studio, and he's broken out Akande's birthday gift: cheetah-print lingerie, the ass-less kind, the print so gauche it's sexy when Lúcio flaunts it with confidence.

The machine mounted at the foot of their bed... that's new.

Lúcio makes him watch in high definition, studio-grade microphones picking up the slightest hitch of breath, the quiet ruffle of sheets when Lúcio grasps for them, writhing on their bed in nothing but those ass-less panties, spine arched, head down and thighs spread, crying out as that machine works in and out, over and over.

Akande vows revenge on Lúcio calling him during his lunch hour. That and neglecting to mention there is now an app on his phone that will let him remotely control things on that machine like speed, force of the thrust, even switch the head of the dildos (technology, amazing).

The second time Lúcio calls, he remembers to tell him. He also shows more decency and waits to call after dinner when Akande isn't about to head into a board room. That second time, Lúcio has to take the next day off work because Akande at the controls robs him of the ability to walk and destroys those panties. Lúcio is more mad about the panties, he loved them.

Akande returns from that trip with a whole new closet of lingerie in apology. Lúcio welcomes him home, already on the bed, being worked open by that machine but he won't let Akande touch until he gets to put on his gift and, of course, the lingerie fits perfectly.

Akande's first order of business is to fall to his knees, part Lucio's cheeks with those huge hands and bury his face, eat him out until Lúcio is struggling to remain standing, panting and gripping the hands fisting and kneading the fine silk and cotton of his new panties.

He doesn't get to come until he's back on that bed. Held open at the knees for the dildo to plunge in deep, shivering as the little ribs and knobs of its texture strike his inner walls like a match. The ache of its girth opening him up on every thrust makes his cock drool, makes him hide his face in Akande's warm neck with slow, deep breaths until the feeling settles into one long, delicious burn.

His head swims with Akande's cologne. With the feeling like he'll be pulled inside out each time that artificial cock withdraws, dragging along his walls, so thick and smooth and wet.

Akande bends over him with an appreciative groan, leaning down his body, unable to resist a closer look.

When Lúcio comes, it's with a loud groan, eyes shut, head thrown back, spine locked in an arch, clutching the taut muscles of Akande's side as the man moans around his cock, slurping and swallowing him down. Large, warm hands cup his ass, rolling his cheeks in a firm massage, refusing to let him pull back or close his legs.

The groan peaks into a whine as he comes and comes and the dildo keeps plunging into him without end. He grasps at Akande's shoulder, wordlessly begging for reprieve. Akande's dark chuckle vibrates against his cock, and Lúcio's chest tightens with apprehension.

Great. It's going to be one of _those_ days.

His fist beats against his partner's shoulder. "S-stop."

Akande often got like this after they had been apart for a while. It doesn't occur to him that Akande is paying him back for the stunt he pulled during his work trip; he isn't even surprised. But he is tired.

The too hot sleeve of Akande's mouth finally pulls off his cock. Lúcio lurches, trembling hard when thumbs pull the skin of his hole wider, and Akande moans and licks at the seam of him where the dildo is squelching on every thrust.

It doesn't care any more than Akande does that Lúcio is writhing on the verge of tears from oversensitivity after one of the hardest orgasms of his life. He feels frayed, a live current beneath his skin, like he's going to vibrate apart.

"Enough, p-please--"

"You can still talk," Akande muses from between his legs, planting an open-mouthed kiss at the twitch of his inner thigh. Fingers tease beneath the underwear's band. "We need to do better."

A beep from the machine raises his hackles, recognising the tone for its speed increasing.

Oh no, pleasepleaseplease--

The hands beneath him tilt his hips up, and the dildo strikes at an angle that makes his vision white out -- he buckles forward, jaw clenched around a high, tight scream. At the machine's new breakneck pace, he can barely gasp for breath. He's exhausted and it's excruciating, the ecstasy that rips through him. He can distantly hear himself, the hysterical, watery, fucked out babble that hitches in his throat every time the thick dildo hilts in him.

"_God_, fuck you, _ fuck--_"

He comes with a tortured sob, wrenching against the hands holding him open like he's nothing more than a treat for Akande's enjoyment. He punches ineffectually at Akande's side, his ribs, strength abandoned.

Asshole. He arches so hard, shivering violently, he fears he pulls something. _ Asshole. _

The spurt from his cock is a pathetic dribble, too soon after his last orgasm to yield more. 

When he comes to, Akande is crooning gently, finally easing that cock out of him. The machine is off, at last. The thick head pops free and Lúcio feels like a wreck. His whole lower half is numb. The cool air against his bared hole makes him clench with a soft hiss. It will be a miracle if his new panties survived Akande's manhandling. They feel soaked and threadbare, what Lúcio can feel of them, twisted against his skin.

Akande's head settles in the valley of his hips, heavy, cheek warm on Lúcio's skin. When Lúcio deigns to crack open an eye and look at him, the man is already gazing up, insufferably proud and adoring.

"Don' gimmie tha fucking look," Lúcio slurs, annoyed. He's going to be so sore in a few hours. He had planned to do more today, but now it looked like nothing but bedrest on his agenda.

"I love it when you give me everything," Akande murmurs, searching his face. His palm spreads on Lúcio's belly, fingers splayed, idly stroking him.

Face burning under the intensity of that gaze, Lúcio glances away to the bathroom. "Get me a towel."

"The next time you want me to watch you get reamed on a work trip? Check the timezone." Smiling, Akande presses a kiss to his stomach before he goes. "Or I'll livestream it to your seven million followers."

Glaring at his perfect, sculpted backside, Lúcio scowls after him. "When I can get out of this bed, Imma kick your ass so hard."

"I know," Akande's sing-song indulgence echoes off the bathroom tiles.

Lúcio slumps back against the pillows and glances down the mess of his body where his new panties are miraculously still intact. Lifting one of the straps on his thigh, he releases it, smiling as it snaps back into place, elastic firm and strong.

Where did Akande find frog-print assless panties, anyway?


End file.
